


Over the Misty Mountains Cold

by HunterJumperLuvr



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M, Not much else since its the prologue, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-22
Updated: 2013-05-22
Packaged: 2017-12-12 16:38:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/813702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HunterJumperLuvr/pseuds/HunterJumperLuvr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Shire has fallen to the Days of Dearth, to many hobbits are dying. So one makes a deal with a dwarrow from Belegost in the Blue Mountains. It was simple for one night, said dwarrow would own his body. And one day, could be next year or 500 years from then, one of his ancestors would call on the hobbits ancestor. And from that day he would own him, body, soul and mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Over the Misty Mountains Cold

**Author's Note:**

> “I cannot give anything for free, and I will not, but for you I will make an exception. I will not ask for money, but a payment of a more personal type. Today you will make your first and last payment. Then when the time comes either I or a someone from my bloodline will come to you or your blood line for the rest. It may be in two years, may be in 300. Just know that someone will collect.”
> 
>  
> 
> So this work was supposed to be dedicated to someone. But she has since been removed from the site for various reasons, and it doesn't matter, to me at least. I haven't read the books, only seen The Hobbit (movie) and all three of the LotR movies. I want to add some khuzdul into this so if anybody knows a good place to look please let me know. This is my first time delving into this "realm" so I am new and hope that you will be gentle. I recently found the Hobbit-Kink Meme, and found a lot of amazing prompts which I will be starting on also. Enjoy, hopefully I will have a new chapter out in a week.

The hierarchy of dwarrows was steeped in tradition. From the moment that Aule created them, Eru gave them life, and put them beneath the mountains of Middle-Earth to sleep-until the day that the elves had been awakened. For 13 dwarrows had been created in secret. Durin-the oldest- was laid to rest alone, underneath Mount Gundabag. 4 were laid to rest under Mount Dolmed, and 8 in northern and southern quadrants of the Orocarni.

 

Gundabag, would later come to be called Khazad-dum and would be home to the Longbeards. Mount Dolmed would be split between Nogrod and Belegost, settlement to the Firebeards and the Broadbeards. In the northern section of the Orocarni the Stiffbeards and Ironfists prospered, and the south the Blacklocks and Stonefoots.

 

Over time the lands prospered, but with anything war would tear them apart. Belegost, home to the greatest smiths and stonemasons, fell during the War of Wrath, her people spread far throughout the lands. Though they would return some time later to their homeland, the grandeur that had once been Belegost was gone its face forever changed by the tidings of war.

 

But unlike the other dwarrow cities, who were all ruled by a king and his chosen. Belegost as it began to return to its former power, a stronghold for craft. Was decided to be ruled not by a king, but by a government of peers. Merchants and Miners, Warriors and Smiths, Tinkers and Toymakers, twelve sat in council. And beneath them the city prospered, but in secret one ruled the council.

 

For though he was just one man, a merchant who sold silks from all over the Middle-Earth, he dealt in the Dark Trade. A man with skills unlike most dwarrows, he would do anything for a cost. And it was such that the Council of Belegost found themselves in his debt. Fredt, though a man of questionable deeds and means, was fair. For as long as you told no-one what he had done, he would give you the time on the debt. Though one must not be mistaken, though he would give you time as much time as _**he**_ wished he would one come collect.

 

And it is here, that we begin our tale, for quite by chance Iolo Took found himself in a bind. For like many of his fathers before him, Iolo had been born into a wealthy family, so there was no need for him to learn any trade. Until the day that the money dried up. For the Tooks, were a family of farmers, that was, until the Day's of Dearth came upon them. Rivers and lakes dried up, pests of the winds ate the plants that remained and the sun burned hot killing the only remaining cattle they had left.

 

It was one night in Bree, where Iolo took a meal with the last bit of money he had left, that the men made mention of a dwarrow in the City of Belegost of the Blue Mountains. With no food or money, Iolo left for Belegost. For this was his only option, too many of his kin, his people had died for him to just sit around. Though he was not the Thain of the Shire, Iolo felt that the people he had known his whole life were no less this than his Uncle.

 

And so it was, that a lone Hobbit set out of the Shire in search of the dwarrow he would change the fate of him and his people.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Belegost was a bustling city unlike any that Iolo had ever seen. Sounds assaulted his ears from all sides, and the smells made his stomach ache. Everywhere he looked there was some sort of store open. To his right a smith sold daggers ranging from ones for everyday use to those that one would showcase on a mantle covered with jewels and carved with intricate designs. Two stalls down and to his left was a merchant selling the most beautiful cloth he had ever seen. Silks the color of the sky and cotton as white as cloud, there were even some that he could not identify, they were the most glorious of blues, purples, even reds. Making his way down the crowded street Iolo allowed himself to stop for a few minutes at the stores.

 

It was late by the time Iolo reached the building where he would find the dwarrow he was searching for. He had gotten lost halfway here, and luckly some kind human child had given him the directions he so needed. Pulling out the piece of paper the young girl had written them on, he glanced between it and the massive door that he now stood in front of. This was most definitely the place.

 

The door was metal and stood roughly 100 feet high. Embedded with gems of ruby and emerald and carved with what seemed to be the story of their creation. The upper half of the door was closed and looked as if it hadn't been opened in years, the lower half held what looked like small doors just a few feet higher than himself.

 

Inside the hall was just as impressing, if not more intimidating than outside, The hall seemed to reach to the sky and as far down as the eyes could see. dwarrows of all shapes and sizes walked along narrow pathways and steep staircases, some were empty handed while a few carried pouches laden with jewels. A few Iolo noticed carried baskets, some held food while others held scraps of fabrics. Those went down corridors that branched off the walkways.

 

Looking around he searched for someone who could tell him where he needed to go. He had tried to ask one of the two dwarrows that had flanked him by the door, but the look he had given him and sent Iolo running without a look behind.

 

He was fairly certain a few minutes later that he should have stopped and asked for directions. For he was now hopelessly lost, the corridor he now found himself in was empty, not a single dwarrow in sight. There were no corridors for him to turn into to see if he could find someone, and turning around to go where he came from was impossible for he had no idea where he even came from. The passageway spread out several hundred feet to a wall that held one lone door.

 

The hallway was lit with candles suspended from the ceiling by a chandelier with crystals of different cuts and sizes, casting a light around the corridor. The floor itself was an ordinary gray stone and the walls were the same, save for the few tapestries on the wall. The door that stood against the end was as unassuming as the corridor itself. And at first Iolo was hesitant to enter it, after all if this hall was empty what were the chances that the room would have anybody in it.

 

Making his decision he turned around, only to come to the conclusion that he would have to go into the room. For the corridor that he had came from was one of four that he could choose from, and he would rather take his chances with an empty room than getting lost in yet another corridor.

 

The door was about 20 feet high, large but not as big as the gate to this mighty fortress. Carved of wood the deepest red he had ever seen, he was struck at the simplistic beauty. There was something about the dwarrows that allowed them to see the beauty in things, that man, hobbit or elf could not. Placing his hand on the door knob, he hesitantly pushed it open.

 

Though not full or busy by any means, the room was filled with the dull quiet buzz of conversation. The room itself was huge, with a high ceiling stone arches held up the ceiling which was paned with beautiful stained glass. The room itself was made of wood a rich color that brought out the dark vibrancy of the grain. Scattered throughout the room were rows upon rows of bookshelves, which were filled from floor to ceiling with books of all shapes, sized and colors. The only area untouched by bookshelves were filled with tables, upon which sat a pile of books, and chairs, which held a large variety of dwarrows.

 

This must be the cities library, if the dull conversation and heads bent over books held no indication-if not the amount of books and bookshelves made the answer quite clear. At one table sat a single lone dwarrow, who in comparison was a lot less intimidating than the others -though Iolo could not see his face.

 

“Excuse me, sir” he whispered as he held out the piece of paper with the name of the dwarrow he was looking for-it was to weird on his tongue the dwarrows name rolling off in butchered syllables. As soon as the dwarrow turned around he wished he could swallow his words for that was no male dwarrow that he had spoken too. Blushing he quickly stuttered out an apology, as the female took the pieces of paper from his hands.

 

“What business do you have with this man,” She muttered her small smile disappearing as soon as she read the name, grabbing Iolo by the scruff of his shirt she lifted him giving him several firm shakes as she reiterated her question. “What business do you have?”

 

Iolo was shocked, he was a Took of Tuckborough and though he was adventurous and didn't care a wit about manners, his treatment was beyond rude. Something he was going to let be known, when he saw her face. The small smile she had given him had turned sour, a frown marred her face with lines, and a dark shadow seemed to cloud it. This dwarrow was not happy, and while he would have liked to find out the reason for the sudden change in mood, he was in a hurry and waiting for her to answer was time he did not have.

 

“My business is my own,” he said when the dwarrow had put him down, seeming to understand that he wasn't about to answer her when he was being shook as if he was a rag doll. “If you cannot tell me where he is I can find someone else who can.” Turning around he began to make his way to another table, only to find himself being dragged out of the room.

 

“My name is Eeos, and you are correct, what business you have with my father is your own. I just warn you for your safety.”

 

“Father?” Iolo questioned as he pulled his hand free and moved into step beside the taller dwarrow.

 

“Yes, Fredt is my father, we don't talk all that much....since I am not overly fond of his business ventures.”

 

Nodding his head, Iolo took the time to look at the dwarrow. She was about a head or two taller than him, and while slim for dwarrow standards, she had strong shoulders and hips. Her hair was as black as a ravens wing and reached her shoulders in lightly curled waves. Her eyes were a light blue and as piercing as the ice Iolo was reminded of.

 

Finally they arrived in front of a door, black with runes the color of a golden fire. Inside the room was filled with tables, with dwarrows sorting different fabrics and leathers, jewelry and even fruits and vegetables. To the back were three doors, two were open and dwarrows moved from room to room, while the other remained closed. That was the door Iolo was led to, with a quick whisper of good luck Eeos turned around and made her way back to the library.

 

The door opened to a room that was empty save for one desk, behind which sat a dwarrow in a single brown chair. When he walked in the door swung closed and the dwarrow looked up. He could see where Eeos got her dark looks, for this dwarrow was intimidating, yet at the same time held a sort of openness that made him seem easy to talk to.

 

The walk towards him lasted forever, and gave him time to think of what he was doing. If it was a good idea, if in fact could he give up something to see The Shire returned to what it was. Suddenly he found himself in front of the desk, the dwarrows eyes were still on him, patiently waiting for his to raise.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

“So, what brings a hobbit this far away from his home.” Fredt said as the hobbits eyes began to rise. They were green just like the trees that he could see from his shop outside. His entire being screamed comfort, from his hemmed pants to the cream colored waistcoat. His hair was almost immaculate, save from the disarray caused by his travels to the mountain. “It must be great, since I haven't seen a hobbit in these mountains in many a year.”

 

The second he had spoken again the hobbits eyes had dropped, and Fredt knew it wasn't a simple matter that brought the hobbit to him. Meaning that the raven he had received from a friend in Ered Luin- who had received the news from a Ranger who had left The Shire recently- informing him the misfortune that had fallen on Middle-Earth's gentlest folk.

 

“My guess you are here about your home, from what I hear it is at a point where no food grows, the water is drying up and hobbits are dying from starvation and malnutrition.” The hobbit nods, his eyes still on the ground. “I will help you with what you need. Weekly caravans will arrive with food and water, I will call for help from the humans and elves to see if we can get more seeds. I have a friend who is a wizard, I will see what he can do about rain.”

 

The hobbits eyes return to his, open in shock or awe he didn't know, though he leaned to the latter since he wasn't one to inspire awe in others. “However, like with anything I will require payment.” The hobbits gaze shut down, eyes returning to the floor, and his shoulders began to shake. For the First time Fredt felt pity for another being, especially one such as this- not used to hard work yet was willing to come this far for family. “I cannot give anything for free, and I will not, but for you I will make an exception. I will not ask for money, but a payment of a more personal type. Today you will make _your_ first and last payment. Then when the time comes either I or a someone from my bloodline will come to you or your blood line for the rest. It may be in two years, may be in 300. Just know that someone will collect.”

 

“And what payment do you want.” The hobbits voice was low, he almost didn't hear him.

 

“Its simple, you will sleep with me tonight, and then tomorrow you will leave with provisions for your return home along with those for The Shire.” Fredt smirked, how attractive the hobbit looked with the blush covering his face. “So your answer, hobbit.”

 

Fists clenched and unclenched as he made his decision. The anger on his face was clear when he answered.

 

“Yes.”

 

 

Nodding his head Fredt reached into his desk and pulled out a scrap of paper. “I will need your name, on this line here.” Passing the paper to the hobbit and pointing to where the hobbits signature was needed.

 

In a minute it was done, and in an elegant scrawl, that did justice to the signatures of elves, was signed Iolo Took. Pushing his chair from out under the desk at which he sat, he moved to stand beside the Iolo. His hand outstretched, he pulled the hobbit beside him and out the door, which closed behind them with a dull thud and Fredt dropped the hobbits hand knowing he would follow behind him.

 

Through halls and doors Fredt lead Iolo, past dwarrows heading to work others just returning. Down flights of stairs, in which he soon found the hobbits small hand grasping the back of his overcoat. Poor thing probably wasn't used to such heights, he remembered the first time walking down these very same stairs admiring how the adults never seemed to notice how high they were.

 

Soon they had reached the lodgings of the merchants, being one of the richest he found himself with his own wing. The door to his bedroom wasn't anything special, but inside the room was dim, light by candles on the wall and a large roaring fire in the fireplace. In the center of the room against a wall, straight across from the fireplace was a large bed. Covered with furs the colors of grey, brown and black.

 

And that was were Fredt lead the hobbit. Pushing him back onto the bed, he removed his shoes and overcoat, before situating himself next to the hobbit. Reaching over he brushed a lock of hair that had fell onto Iolo's forehead behind his ear. Pulling the hobbit to himself, he rolled over pushing himself onto his hands.

 

Yes, this was the most perfect arrangement.


End file.
